


sugar, butter, flour

by sophh



Series: HP Rarepairs Bingo, 2020 [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Bakery, Alternate Universe - Muggle, F/M, Facebook: The Fairest of the Rare, Harry Potter Rare Pair Bingo: Round 2
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-22
Updated: 2020-10-22
Packaged: 2021-03-08 23:01:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,940
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27154210
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sophh/pseuds/sophh
Summary: Muggle Bakery!AU. Hannah is intrigued by the man who comes by her bakery every day at exactly 3:15 to order a black bottom cupcake.
Relationships: Hannah Abbott/Anthony Goldstein
Series: HP Rarepairs Bingo, 2020 [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1971754
Comments: 8
Kudos: 6
Collections: Harry Potter Rare Pair Bingo: Round Two!





	sugar, butter, flour

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by M Granger Danger's post in Fairest of the Rare: Anthony/Hannah. 
> 
> Written for HP Rarepairs Bingo, square T029: (AU) Muggle.
> 
> Title comes from "What's Inside," Waitress the Musical.
> 
> Huge thanks to the illustrious Ray (RayQueen) for looking over this for me!

Hannah smiled as the blond man ducked into the bakery. She already had a muffin set aside for him, but she wanted to make sure that it was the kind he wanted, even if she was almost one hundred percent sure that it was. 

"Good afternoon," he greeted her, his voice so buttery it belonged on one of her muffins. "I'd like a black bottom cupcake, please." 

Her fingers inched over to the plain brown paper bag, already packed and ready for his eating pleasure. "Of course. Here you go, sir." 

His brown eyes widened slightly, but she only saw delight in them. "You remembered." It wasn't a question. 

"Yes," Hannah confessed, her voice shy. "You always come in at precisely 3:15 and order a black bottom cupcake." 

He chuckled and ran a hair through his curly locks. "Yes, I suppose I do. Thank you for noticing."

Hannah smiled. "Of course." 

He shook open the bag and reached a thin hand inside. Hannah was slightly startled by this—he usually waited until he sat down to open the bag. "I've been looking forward to this all day," he said conspiratorially, sinking his teeth into the dessert. 

Hannah held her breath, but he didn't offer any immediate reaction, so she tentatively asked, "How—how does it taste?" 

He finished chewing, swallowed, then flashed a set of pearl-white teeth at her. "Amazing, as always." 

She could feel a light blush rise to her cheeks. "Thank you. That'll be 2 pounds." She didn't know why she bothered to tell him the price when he surely knew it already, but he made no comment, just dug around in his pocket for a moment before producing a worn £2 coin.

He handed her the payment, his fingers brushing hers ever so slightly. The faint touch made her heartbeat quicken, and she busied herself with the cash register for a moment to calm down. By the time she turned back to wish him a good day, he was already striding over to a metal cafe-style table in the corner. 

Hannah felt a twinge of disappointment, but she continued to survey him at his table until he got up and left a half hour later. 

***

At 3:14 PM the next day, Hannah had the cupcake ready for Blond Man. Sure enough, the bell over the bakery door jangled at 3:15. When Hannah looked over, she met the man's eyes, which led to a flutter of butterflies in her stomach. 

"The usual?" she asked, wondering if her voice sounded a bit more breathless than usual. 

A smile played at the corner of his lips. Hannah begged it to grow a little larger, to blind her with his teeth again. "A black bottom cupcake? Yes, please." 

Hannah nodded and produced the paper bag she had squirreled away for him a minute earlier. 

"Thank you," he said. "I won't sample it this time."

Hannah giggled. "Fair enough." 

He pressed another £2 coin into her hand, his fingers lingering a moment longer than Hannah deemed necessary—but she didn't mind. It gave her the courage to ask him, after so many visits, what his name was. 

"Anthony," he replied, holding his now-empty hand out for her to shake. His grip was firm, but his hand was soft and warm, not dry and calloused as Hannah's were after washing them so many times a day. 

"I'm Hannah," she said. 

"It's nice to meet you, Hannah." Anthony looked behind him, presumably checking to see if there were any customers waiting behind him. There weren't, and he turned back to Hannah with a proper grin. "Could I get a receipt today?" 

Hannah blinked. Anthony had never asked for a receipt before. It almost felt like he was giving her some sort of riddle or puzzle to solve, though she had no idea what the answer was, or why he was doing it. 

"Of course," she replied, willing her voice to sound normal. She punched in the numbers on the cash register and finally tucked his coin away as she waited for the receipt to print. 

Anthony slid a pen towards her. "You, er, might need this, too." 

Hannah's mind was racing. What could he want her to do with a receipt and a pen? She nervously wiped her hands on her apron. The whole situation was just making her feel sweaty and confused. 

Anthony leaned his elbows on the counter and put his head in his hands, presenting Hannah with a head of very soft-looking hair. She was just thinking about how nice it would feel to run her fingers through it when he spoke, his voice muffled by his palms. "I've done this all wrong, haven't I?"

"What? What have you done all wrong?" Hannah asked. She placed a hand on his wrist, and his head shot up to look at her. "Sorry. Are...are you alright?"

"Yeah." He straightened up fully and gave her a rueful smile. "I was trying to ask for your number, subtly, so you wouldn't feel pressured to give it to me if you didn't want to. However, I fear I only confused you." 

Hannah let out a relieved laugh. "Oh! I  _ was _ a bit confused, but that's alright. Here." She took the pen and carefully wrote down her phone number. She couldn't quite believe what was happening, but she was thrilled and incredibly flattered. 

"Thanks," Anthony said, taking the receipt from her. "For the cupcake  _ and  _ the number." 

"You're welcome," was all that Hannah could manage in response. 

***

That evening, Hannah sat on the couch watching the telly, phone propped up next to her as if it was watching with her. She kept glancing over at it, willing it to ring, but it didn't. 

"Why won't he call?" she mumbled to herself. "Why ask for a woman's number and then not follow up? That's so _...rude!" _

Hannah wasn't normally so judgemental, particularly when it came to her customers, but this wasn't just any customer. This was a man who was loyal to her business, and he had seemed interested in her too, unless she was reading all the signs wrong—the casual touches, the smiles,  _ asking for her number. _ There wasn't any other plausible explanation for those behaviors, in her mind. 

She sighed as a string of commercials came on. With the push of a remote button, the telly was silenced and she was left with only a jet black screen and the clamoring of her thoughts. 

***

Hannah went all out kneading the dough, channeling her frustration and anger into the simple action. Several times, she even surprised herself at the force with which she flung the dough onto the floured surface. She just couldn't wrap her head around the audacity of asking someone for their number and not calling them. It was bewildering beyond belief. 

_ Smack. _ Hannah nearly jumped at the noise. She looked sheepishly down at the dough and shook her head. "I think that's enough of that."

She set about making sure that the ovens were at the correct temperatures, then slid the various treats—cupcakes, muffins, cookies, and breads—in to bake. It took her a minute to set all of the corresponding timers, but once she did, she collapsed onto a stool with a pleased grin. In just a few hours, it would be time to open the bakery and serve her customers. 

Her stomach twisted at the thought of seeing Anthony again. The idea of facing him after he had snubbed her left a sour taste in her mouth, one that even his brilliant smile couldn't make her forget. 

She wiped her hands on her apron and looked around for something else to do, something to distract her from her thoughts. Finding nothing that needed doing in the back areas of the bakery, she moved to the front and began to rearrange yesterday's leftovers on the lace doilies within the display cases. 

Shortly thereafter, one of her timers went off, alerting her that the shortbread biscuits were done. Relieved, she hurried to pull them out and place them on the cooling racks. The topic of Anthony and his rudeness faded from her mind as she got swept up in the daily tasks of running the bakery. 

***

As soon as Anthony stepped inside her establishment that afternoon, Hannah found herself biting her tongue, afraid to unleash her emotions on him verbally or in her facial expressions. Her frustration and anger had dulled, leaving only hurt and despair, but she pasted a smile onto her face as she greeted him. 

"Good afternoon, Anthony." Her fingers twitched, wanting to reach for the paper bag she had prepared for him. 

"Good afternoon, Hannah," he said, smiling that radiant smile that made the butterflies in her stomach return in full force. He was wearing glasses for once, which made his warm brown eyes look smaller than usual, but also gave him a studious appearance that Hannah couldn't help but find charming. "One black bottom cupcake, if you please." 

Hannah took a quick breath to bolster herself. "Of course. It's not fresh like it usually is. I...I didn't make any this morning. Too many other things needed baking." That wasn't a lie, but she rather felt as though it was just punishment for slighting her. 

If Anthony was disappointed by this news, he didn't show it. "That's perfectly fine," he said politely, holding out his requisite £2 coin. "I'm sure it will be just as good as your cupcakes always are." 

Hannah flushed. "Thanks," she said quietly, taking his proffered coin. She slid the bag over to him rather than take the risk of touching him again. 

"I'm sorry I didn't call you last night," Anthony said suddenly. Hannah closed the cash register drawer and looked up at him, fighting to keep her expression pleasant and unaccusing. 

"That's... it's fine," she said, fixing her eyes on his fingers, which were wrapped around the top of the bag. 

Anthony shook his head. "No, it isn't. You're only saying that to be nice. I know you are." 

Hannah peered at him suspiciously. "You don't know me." 

"I know that you are an extremely kind person," he shrugged. "I don't think you have it in you to be mean to anyone." 

Hannah bit her lip, then let out a short burst of laughter. "I suppose you're right about that," she said finally. 

"Anyway, I really am sorry. I'm a doctor, and there was this emergency…" 

He started into a tale involving a man and a pair of scissors, but Hannah could see a queue beginning to form behind him, and she regretfully cleared her throat. 

"I'm sorry, Anthony, but there are other customers waiting." She felt something inside herself cave, giving her permission to add, "Maybe you can tell me about it over dinner tomorrow night?" 

Anthony's eyes lit up. "Does that mean you forgive me?"

Hannah nodded. She couldn't stay upset with him—he was just too sweet, rather like the black bottom cupcakes he favored. "Yes, I forgive you." 

She watched as Anthony moved out of the line and over to a table by the window. She wondered if he had chosen that one purposefully, because it gave her a clear view of him even as she tended to the customers. When he looked over at her and winked, she knew that he had. She continued to serve the guests, but every so often, she would meet his eye and smile. 

Life was good. Her bakery was thriving, she loved what she did, and she had a  _ very _ handsome date for the following night. 


End file.
